Knights of the Magic Kingdom
by Karalora
Summary: Everyone knows there's more to Disneyland than meets the eye...but only a privileged few know how much more. That's the problem-a privileged few can't stop a legion. Who will answer the call? Best if they know their history first...
1. Prologue

_A/N: This has been a long time in coming. This piece was originally posted under the title "Sneak Peek," and was intended to be the prologue to a complete story of a few chapters, which in turn was designed as an introduction to the concept and setting of the Knights of the Magic Kingdom. I wanted (and in fact still want) to invite interested readers to join me in contributing to a shared universe, and was planning to use the story to exposit my basic worldbuilding._

_But things didn't go to plan. I found that I couldn't tell the story in only a few chapters, and that every time I rewrote my outline, what I ended up writing overshot the plan. Four chapters extended to six, and then eight. As it dragged on, I became disenchanted with my characters, finding them less interesting the more central they were to the plot. Ultimately, I realized that I didn't really want to be doing what J.R.R. Tolkien did in disguising a worldbuilding exercise as a story in the first place. Part of me wanted to give up._

_But I reconsidered, and figured out an alternate plan. Instead of presenting a unified single story, I will reveal my concept in a nonlinear form, via various short (1-2 page) stories and drabble-like pieces, each containing a tidbit or two of information. This way, I can post items as I come up with them and gradually build up the picture of the world I envision. For added fun and mystery, I will be posting them in anachronic order, i.e. not in the order they take place._

_I hope you enjoy the trip, and I especially hope you like my idea well enough to contribute your own stories and characters…in time! And now, without further ado…_

* * *

><p>It was a clear and balmy evening: late spring, in an area known for its fine weather. Along a narrow street in a world-renowned tourist destination, hundreds, if not thousands, of people were lined up in anticipation of a parade. Most of them were families: parents with preadolescent children, plus perhaps a grandparent or two. A keen observer might have noticed a relative dearth of teens and young adults, but anyone that clever would probably realize that members of said age group were taking advantage of the fact that the impending parade would draw crowds away from <em>other<em> attractions, attractions more suited to the low threshold for boredom that characterizes adolescence.

Of course, the parade route wasn't entirely devoid of people around the cusp of adulthood. Some, for instance, weren't allowed to separate from their families. And here and there were even those who _wanted_ to watch the parade, who took atypical pleasure in such things and thus set themselves apart, although there was no way they could have known it.

But this story isn't about them. Yet.

For the time being, this story is about the six older people—much older, in some cases—who were meeting at the same moment on the same street, on the other side of a peculiar barrier that can perhaps best be described as an invisible opaque curtain. The Curtain, in fact, is what they themselves called it, and on their side of it, the street was empty save for the six of them and a beat policeman patrolling some distance away. They had almost total privacy.

"Is this everyone?" asked a woman in her late thirties whose Southwestern drawl perfectly matched her clothes, which would not have looked out of place on the set of a Sergio Leone film. (The woman herself, on the other hand…but that will become clear in time.)

"Everyone who could make it, aye," said the man to her left, who not only spoke but dressed as a pirate, despite being of an age where he should have been swinging a golf club rather than a cutlass.

"Right then. Y'all can surely guess why I called ya here tonight."

The answer came from a mature man in a skintight black jumpsuit. The left sleeve stopped at the elbow, revealing an arm made of chrome and circuit boards. "The new Bogeys. And the lack of Knights to deal with them."

The woman gave a short nod. "Right you are, Slyzer. Ladies and gents, we've lost a lot o' people in the past year, and we're likely to lose more in the next year the way things are goin'. And this new breed o' Bogeys already has us stretched practically to our limits. We need to bring in some new blood."

There was a brief, awkward silence. Then a grandmotherly woman in a glittery periwinkle dress spoke up, diaphanous wings fluttering at her shoulders. "It's not that I don't agree with you, Ebony Rose love, but I don't think that's an option. Management hasn't approved any new recruitment in _years_. I don't think the new guard even knows what we actually _do_…the only reason they keep any of us on the payroll is that Roy said we weren't to be touched no matter what. And with him gone…"

"Dewdrop, I didn't say it'd be easy," said Ebony Rose, "but the way I see it, the only other choice is to let ourselves git whittled down till we disband outright." There was a collective gasp and shudder. "Exactly," she continued. "Now listen. Stout Henry and I talked it over, and we're seriously considerin' goin' behind Management's back and bringin' some volunteers on board."

"Volunteers?" scoffed the smallest member of the group, who was the smallest because he was a red-and-green macaw. He wore a bronze key on a chain around his neck and spoke with an inexplicable upper-class British accent. "We haven't managed to keep a full staff of people getting _paid_ to do this job. What sort of _morons_ would be willing to do it for free?"

"We're still here, Geoffrey," said the youngest and final member of the group, a woman in her early twenties who looked for all the world like a prim Victorian lady except for the fact that she was slightly transparent and floating several inches off the ground. "Paid or not…are _we_ morons?"

"Well, I didn't mean," Geoffrey mumbled. Embarrassed, he turned his head and started preening a wing.

"No, Willa, we're not morons," said Stout Henry firmly. "We're the best o' the best. If we were anythin' less, we'd not have held on as long as we have. If we can only find some newcomers with the talent to win against the Bogeys and the dedication to keep fightin' 'em, _and_ for no more reward than the satisfaction of a job well done…" He trailed off.

"They'd be just the heroes this place needs," Ebony Rose concluded.

"But how will we find them?" Dewdrop wondered.

"Oh, they'll come to us," said Ebony Rose with a sudden perk in her voice. "In fact, that'll be the first test."

"Tests? Well, at least you're not proposing we just take on any daft bugger who twist a key," said Geoffrey. "Maybe this—" He broke off suddenly when Slyzer's left arm beeped.

The cyborg raised it and tapped a few buttons, bringing up a holographic display, then made a low whistle. "It's big," he said, "and it's close. Looks like the Hub. Probably going after the parade. I guess this one's on us." He closed down the display, unhooked a small cannon-like device from his belt, and slotted it into place on the arm.

"Oh, goodness," said Dewdrop.

"Right then," said Ebony Rose a second time, unholstering her twin six-shooters, Angus and Agnes. "We'll pick this up again after we take it down. Let's move!"

And off they went down the twilit street. Somewhere close by, that same street was clogged with floats and musicians. But where they were, the path was clear.


	2. Backstory

_Imagination is magic. That much is common knowledge. However, only a small percentage of people know how powerful that magic can be._

_It can create worlds. And not just in the figurative sense._

_When Walt Disney began producing cartoons in the 1920s and 1930s, his creations captured the hearts of the entire nation, if not the entire globe. He put a tremendous amount of emotional investment into Mickey and Minnie and the rest, and audiences returned it in kind. Plenty of cartoons were appreciated, but Disney's were _beloved_. And then came _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs…

_In retrospect, that first feature-length animated film was probably the tipping point. But it wasn't until sometime during the production of _Bambi_—the studio's most carefully crafted feature to date, and its last one before the hardships of World War Two forced the first Dark Age—that the signs began to emerge. Easily dismissed at first, the glimpses of strange beings around the studio, experiences of time and space dilation or compression, and other odd occurrences grew more common and more obvious over the next few years, until they could no longer be brushed off as the ramblings of overworked minds. Walt hired a spiritualist (even in the Forties, Hollywood was filled with them) to figure out just what was going on._

_Her findings were astonishing: the outpouring of creative energy from the studio over the decades, and the answering love of the public, had combined to generate a new universe! It was only a small one, a pocket dimension that overlapped with the "real" world on the site of the Burbank offices, but within it, the Disney characters were real beings with real existences. It was magic of the most wonderful kind…but it was disrupting the work. Walt asked what could be done about it, and the mystic's response was chilling._

"_It needs structure. It is a force of pure creativity, and as such is too chaotic to remain safely attached to our world as it is. You must tell it what it is to be, and keep telling it as long as it continues to grow…and it may never stop. But if you do not direct this power, there are others who surely will…others without your good intentions. And even if they don't, the chaos will eventually threaten the stability of our reality."_

"_How can I do that?" asked Walt._

"_For now, the same way you brought it into being. Tell your stories. The creation of new characters and their worlds will use up some of the excess energy…but it will also probably generate more of it. You'll need a more substantial solution before long, so start thinking about it."_

_He already was. Walt had been toying with the idea of building an amusement park; this just cemented in his mind that it had to be done, and done more grandly than previously planned. He remembered reading about ancient magicians who harnessed the Earth's ley lines by building meticulously designed shrines and monuments over them, and it seemed to him that he could achieve similar results. But his "Mickey Mouse Park" would have to be much larger and more complex than he initially envisioned, and capable of indefinite evolution—nothing less, in fact, than a scale model of Walt's own imagination._

_So Disneyland was built not as a mere amusement park, but as the world's first full-fledged theme park. Its size required that it be placed miles away from Burbank, but as Walt and the artists in charge of the project—the Imagineers—made daily trips to the construction site and invested ever-increasing amounts of time and energy into it, the pocket dimension migrated. At a key moment in the process, a brass spike was driven into the ground underneath Sleeping Beauty Castle. Curious guests would later be told that it marked the geographic center of the original park, and that much was more-or-less true…but it was also an anchor, pinning the miniature universe to Disneyland, tying the fates of the two places together._

_And it did one more thing: it turned the arch of the Castle into the first Gateway. Walt himself discovered this one day as he walked into the half-built Fantasyland, happily imagining what it would look like when it was finished…and suddenly it seemed to him that it _was_ finished, that the buildings had risen to their full heights and received their brightly painted façades, that the King Arthur Carrousel and Mad Tea Party beyond it were all lit up and spinning, that the landscaping was lush with foliage._

_It wasn't a hallucination. He could walk right up and touch it all. He was torn between delight in the moment and alarm in the certain knowledge that it was impossible, until he glanced up and noticed some familiar figures flying overhead: Dumbo and Peter Pan. He then realized that he had somehow entered the pocket dimension itself. He spent over an hour just wandering, seeing how the dimension had patterned itself after the park, before remembering that he would be missed. He retraced his steps and was able to cross back over._

_Through trial and error, Walt figured out how to cross the invisible boundary between Disneyland and its magnificent doppelganger any time he liked. But the demands on his time were increasing, leaving him few opportunities to do so. So he gathered a small group of bright, adventuresome studio employees, swore them to secrecy, then showed them how to cross over and assigned them the job of exploring the other world._

_Most of what they learned concerned Gateways. They soon discovered that the Castle arch was not the only one. As construction progressed, new Gateways came into being in significant locations throughout the park. At any of these points, only an effort of will was required to push aside the boundary—the Curtain—and pass through. It was so simple, in fact, that it was potentially a great problem: what if the guests should stumble through? The other realm—the explorers began to call it Disneytopia—seemed safe enough, but it was meant to be a secret._

_Then the park attractions began to be completed, and things became a lot more complicated. The explorers found yet more Gateways, corresponding to the rides and show buildings, and these led not to the clean, safe, predictable world of Disneytopia, but to…other places. Places that were familiar, yet fantastic._

_Darkest Africa. Remote Asia. The jungle primeval, infested with pythons and lions and headhunters._

_The Wild West. Green hills and golden prairie under a sky as big as the whole world, where the difference between good and evil was as plain as the color of a hat._

_A fairytale kingdom of glittering castles and dark, haunted forests._

_A high-tech city built around a spaceport, the whole of it peacefully rotating hundreds of miles above the Earth's surface._

_Neverland._

_Wonderland._

_Worlds _within_ Disneytopia, budding off of it like grapes in a bunch. And unlike the Disneyland counterpart itself, these worlds included real dangers._

_It was time to contact the spiritualist again._

_She sized up the situation, and this time her news was good: Disneytopia was developing the way it was because it was a realm (or realms) made of the infinitely malleable stuff of imagination, and it was bonded to a theme park where, above all, imagination reigned supreme. On some level, Walt _believed_ in his creations, and his enthusiasm was infectious. And so the Disneytopian reflections of the themed rides and areas went beyond what existed in reality, to what Walt and the Imagineers "knew" them to be at heart._

_The upshot was that it would be fairly easy to close off Disneytopia to accidental intrusion. But it would require that every existing Gateway be located, and that there be someone present at each of them, simultaneously. The exploration team was too few even for the Gateways they had already discovered, so Walt recruited more participants, and even got his family members in on it for good measure. They combed the nascent park from end to end, testing every square foot for both kinds of portals. When they were certain they had found them all, they moved to the next phase of the process. On the evening of June 20, 1955 (Midsummer's Eve), Walt, the mystic, and everyone he had brought on board gathered in Disneyland, each bringing with them a key to which they did not possess the lock. Opening Day was less than a month away, and there was still an inordinate amount of work to be done. This part, at least, would be fairly simple._

_They had synchronized their watches, and counted down to midnight. At that moment, the midpoint of the shortest night of the year, they all inserted their keys into the air where they knew the Gateways to be and turned them, willing the portals to be locked. And because of the nature of Disneytopia and the precision by which the ceremony was carried out, it worked. No one could cross over accidentally anymore. But it was still possible for someone to cross over on purpose, if they had one of the keys used to lock the Gateways._

_When Walt learned this, at first he wanted to confiscate all the keys. He didn't like the idea of people—even people he trusted—tramping around his magnificent world without his knowledge. But Opening Day was fast approaching and he never quite got around to it. This turned out to be a good thing, because when the big day finally arrived, it was plagued with more misfortunes than could reasonably be explained by the newness of the venture and the degree to which things had been rushed to get it ready in time. High heels sinking into fresh asphalt was only to be expected, but the sheer number of human errors and equipment errors and quirks of weather and various other unpredictable problems seemed too high for mere coincidence, at least as far as the spiritualist was concerned. If conditions at Disneyland could affect Disneytopia, it seemed logical to her that the reverse was also true. She spent most of the day trying to catch Walt's ear, but it was his moment of triumph, and he just wasn't available. So she left a note for him in his apartment above the Main Street Firehouse. It read, simply:_

_LIKELY TROUBLE ACROSS THE CURTAIN. PLEASE ADVISE._

_Two days later, the note came back to her, with his reply written on the back:_

_TOO BUSY. LOOK INTO IT. GET THE KIDS IF YOU HAVE TO._

"_The kids" were the original team of explorers, and the mystic lost no time in contacting them. Still, it was a few days before she was able to get through to them all and meet them at the park after hours. They used their keys to slip across the Curtain and see what might be seen._

_What they saw almost had them fleeing right back to Disneyland. Everywhere they looked, there were monsters! They weren't exactly a horde—they weren't even interacting with each other—but there were enough of them that there was at least one in almost any line-of-sight. The variety of their forms was astonishing, though none of them were exactly nice to look at._

_They didn't interact with the explorers either, at first. They were too busy with their own pursuits, much of which involved wanton destruction—gnawing at the young trees, clawing paint and plaster off of buildings, digging up the planters, wrenching railings out of shape. Others were merely moving around, some purposefully, some not. But they all ignored the humans…until one of the explorers wandered a little too close to a small dragonlike thing and attracted its attention. It made an ear-piercing shriek, and suddenly a good half-dozen creatures ranging from cat-sized to horse-sized were charging the group, forcing them to beat a hasty retreat back to the Gateway._

_They made a few more trips, observing the creatures while conscientiously avoiding any confrontation with them, trying to figure out what their purpose actually was. All they could tell for certain was that they were hostile—each trip ended in a mad dash for the nearest Gateway when they were finally spotted. Fortunately, the creatures seemed unable to cross over themselves._

_And it was enough for the spiritualist to discern what was going on. Her prediction had come true. Disneyland had provided the wild creative energy with structure, but it was also generating more of it, from its very first day of operation, maybe even before. It was inevitable—Walt could never have built something that wasn't at least as inspiring as inspired…and now _things_ were coming to feast mindlessly on the bounty. There was no telling _where_ they had come from. Later on, they came to be called Bogeys, but for the time being, they were known simply as Enemies. It was clear that they had to be stopped or at least controlled, but how?_

_They brainstormed, and hit upon an intriguing idea: if the Enemies were siphoning energy out of Disneytopia as fuel, maybe the explorers could take some for themselves—just a little!—and use it against the monsters somehow. After all, if it could create all those pocket worlds, surely it could create smaller things, like a magic sword or a loyal robot sidekick. And the spiritualist already knew a thing or three about channeling mystical energy…_

_It worked, of course. Armed with their keys, their imagination, and their determination, they became the first Knights, with the spiritualist as their unofficial leader. She has not been identified by name thus far because her given name has been lost to history. She immersed herself so completely in her new identity of Auntie Bones the Adventureland witch doctor that the person she had been effectively ceased to exist. The others did not go that far, but their previous roles with the Walt Disney Company had been undistinguished, and they too are remembered primarily as Knights._

_Besides Auntie Bones, there were six of them: Adam Smasher, the two-fisted space hero; Cactus Dan, Western trick rider extraordinaire; Maximillius the wizard and his squirrel assistant Feathertail; Professor Xenon, scientific genius; and the Panther Man, master of jungle cats. A full accounting of their exploits would take far too much time—it need only be said that they were true heroes. Yet they could see that their job would never be finished as long as Disneyland existed; indeed, it only grew as the park grew._

_So they began recruiting others. The Knights of the Magic Kingdom became a tradition, working in secret to prevent the ever-encroaching Bogeys from irreversibly damaging or corrupting Disneytopia, and through it Disneyland itself, and our world. As time passed, they found that there were many types of Bogeys…but that was all right, because there came to be many types of Knights, drawing inspiration from Disney productions as they were made and their influences felt in the park. The evolution of Disneyland, Disneytopia, the Knights, and the Bogeys moved together, resulting in approximate equilibrium, if an uneasy one. And this state of affairs lasted for decades…_

* * *

><p><em>AN: This will probably be the single longest "chapter" I post. I first wrote it as part of the story I originally intended to share (as mentioned in the note on the first installment), and I decided that it was still the best way to convey the origin of the realm of Disneytopia and the founding of the Knights of the Magic Kingdom. Of course, this is only the beginning, in more ways than one..._


	3. Notes from May '95

Tim—

I checked it out, just a quick peek. It's the Lost Delta, all right. It's pretty spectacular. We'd better keep an eye on it, something like that temple is going to attract swarms of Bogeys, if it hasn't already.

Trish

* * *

><p>Lily—<p>

For starters, don't call me Tim. And don't call yourself Trish. You know the rules.

Anyway…

So it's already separate? Wow, that was fast. Agrabah still hasn't split off from Little Big Island. The birds are getting restless. José told me Iago sometimes sneaks in and listens in on their meetings. They usually catch him halfway through, but what they need to be doing is making sure he's not there before they start.

Prof. Paloverde

* * *

><p>Prof—<p>

(Sorry, I keep forgetting about the names.) It's not exactly separate, you can get to it from the Asian part of World Jungle without even realizing you've crossed a boundary, but it's definitely a new Homeland. And after only two months! People must really love those movies!

Lily O'Nile

* * *

><p>Lily—<p>

I wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly it. Remember, Disneytopia first came into being because audiences loved the studio's work so much. And we've had a real Renaissance lately, both at the studio and in the park. The imaginative energy must be at an all-time high. Of course, that makes it all the weirder that we don't have a proper Agrabah yet. We need to figure out what's going on with that.

Prof. Paloverde

* * *

><p>Prof—<p>

I have a theory about that, actually. I don't think Management gave the Oasis a chance to make an impression on the guests. It doesn't have a big façade and it spends more time closed than open, and they're even talking about discontinuing the show. People might have loved Aladdin, but they haven't been given a proper Aladdin attraction to love and there's no place for the energy to go.

Lily O'Nile

* * *

><p>Lily—<p>

That makes a lot of sense. I'll send word to the senior Knights and see if we can't at least get the Aladdin crew some decent temporary quarters. This is getting ridiculous. In the meantime, let's set aside tomorrow to explore the Lost Delta.

Prof. Paloverde

* * *

><p>Prof—<p>

What about Storybookland? There's that model of the palace there now. Could they live there?

Lily O'Nile

* * *

><p>Lily—<p>

Unfortunately, no. The Homeland attached to Storybook is actually Lilliputian Land. You might not know that name, it comes from early plans for the park. It works out because it gives the mice somewhere to live. Not Mickey and Minnie, actual small mice like the Rescuers. It was a nice thought, though. You've got a good head for this job, Lily.

Prof. Paloverde

* * *

><p>Prof—<p>

Thanks. And tomorrow is fine, by the way. I'll tell Sunmane, we'll probably want a heavy hitter with us if the Bogeys have already started adapting to the area.

Lily O'Nile

* * *

><p>Lily—<p>

See you tomorrow.

Prof. Paloverde


	4. Internal Memo

Internal Memo - For Intra-Departmental Circulation Only

Date: June 12, 1961

To: All Knights of the Magic Kingdom

It has come to the attention of the Management that some members of the Department have been overusing their recently learned ability to create the personal pocket dimensions referred to as "Cozies." We have no assurance that the fabric of Disneytopia can withstand such pressure, and in the interest of caution, the practice of creating Cozies is to be discontinued, effective immediately. Any member of the Department with control over one or more Cozies may retain ownership of one for personal use, and may transfer up to two others to fellow members, provided said members derive their identities from the same land and do not currently have possession of a Cozy. Any Cozies beyond this number must no longer be used or accessed. The exception is if a present or future Department member not in control of a Cozy discovers an unused one through serendipity.

Additionally, the ability to create Cozies is no longer to be taught, either to present members of the Department or those to be hired in the future.

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.

-The Management

* * *

><p>P.S. Sorry about this, kids, but we can't be too careful. Eventually we might go back to letting you make new Cozies, if we find out they're not too dangerous.<p>

-Walt

* * *

><p><em>AN: In the early days, Walt was as closely involved with the Knights as he was with every other aspect of his business. He would have been one himself if he had been younger and less busy...though it's anyone's guess as to the sort of identity he would have taken on!_


	5. Helpful Glossary

Dear Kieran,

Welcome to the family! I'm terribly sorry I wasn't able to prepare this for you earlier—I've been bogged down cleaning out a nest of Squatters that weren't as susceptible to my magic as I thought they would be. And since I bring it up, I suppose that's as good a place as any to start with our little list of terms.

Squatters: Probably the least aggressive type of Bogey, but best dealt with right away if you find one. They're something like sheep ticks in the way they operate. A Squatter will find a place in Disneytopia that's rich with energy and camp there, sucking it up. We think they turn it into their life force, because the longer they're left alone, the harder they are to kill. They might not seem all that dangerous, but the energy drain can have far-reaching consequences. We have reason to believe Squatters are responsible for the decline of Progress City and the fact that Carousel Theater still doesn't have a new attraction. Make of that what you will.

Wunnos: Probably the most common Bogeys, and certainly the type you'll spend the most time fighting because of how ferocious they are. For whatever reason, they just want to destroy things and hurt people. If they do enough damage, they can cause an attraction on the Near Side to break down without warning, which is how they got their name—it comes from the "101" code for a breakdown. Fortunately, they're so simple-minded that killing them is mainly a matter of countering their weapons and finding their weak points.

Leeches: Very nasty. The other types of Bogey steal energy from Disneytopia, but these steal energy directly from the guests. They basically take the form of wandering spirits in the Top Layer, and when one of them finds a susceptible guest, it follows the poor person around and feeds on their emotions, which messes up their perceptions of the park. They seem to prefer children, which is simply horrible, and while attached to a host, they are all but invincible. You'll have to lure them away in order to fight them. Like I said, very nasty.

Wicks: Now, these Bogeys can be cunning. Wick is short for Wicked, and we call them that because these are the ones that have "gone native," as it were, and behave like villains in the worlds where they live. Also, you can't use your Key to disintegrate them the way you can with normal Bogeys. The dragon you slew on your first day as a Knight was a fairly typical case. You get the most Wicks in the Homelands attached to Fantasyland and Adventureland. Some Knights think Harold is actually a Wick, but if so, he's so fully integrated that he's no longer any threat. Personally, I don't think he's a Bogey at all, but if he is he's more likely to be a Boss.

Bosses: Possibly a subtype of Wicks, but we don't deal with them often enough to be sure. They are intelligent and many of them resemble humans or humanlike beings. We used to call them Masters, but some of the younger Knights took to calling them Bosses a while back, and it stuck. We rarely fight Bosses directly, but some of them use lesser Bogeys as minions. Others see other Bogeys as competitors and kill them, which saves us a certain amount of trouble, but it's worrying because we have no idea what they ultimately want. We definitely can't trust them!

That about wraps it up for Bogeys. I think the other point you were confused concerns Gateways, yes? It may help to know that the word Gateway is both general and specific. All the Disneytopian portals are collectively called Gateways, but unless context suggests otherwise, you can assume it refers to the "regular" kind that lead to Homelands. The main thing you need to remember about those is that they extend to both the park and the Top Layer. If you cross the Curtain in a regular Gateway, you'll go straight to the Homeland, and if you enter that space from the Top Layer, you'll wind up in the Homeland without even using your Key. Other than that, Shallow Gateways connect the park to the Top Layer and Deep Gateways only occur within Homelands and, naturally, lead to Deep Homelands.

I hope that's enough for now. You'll get the hang of the jargon. If you have any more questions, don't hesitate to ask me or any of the other Fantasyland Knights. Or any Knight, for that matter. Keep fighting the good fight!

All the best,

Dewdrop

* * *

><p><em>AN: Infodump. Blargh. There are some good side tidbits too, though. This might be a good time to point out that you really need to __**pay attention**__ in order to notice everything I reveal in each chapter. You can always ask me if you have questions, but unless you pay attention, you won't even know what questions to ask!_


	6. Bulletin Board

Picked up about 15 antique keys from a yard sale on my day off. Am willing to donate them for new recruits to use if it would be worthwhile.

—Brer Gator

* * *

><p>Rubber Arms still has a few vacancies if anyone wants to take advantage of them. Just let me know and I'll pass word along to Mr. McDuck. Don't try to call him, his people will call you to set up an appointment.<p>

—Tanya Teal

* * *

><p>To everyone:<p>

Looks like the World Wide Web page project is a no-go. There's just no way to keep it secure enough with our present resources. Sorry about this. I know some of you had your hopes up. Over in TL we're looking into the possibility of using the FutureNet instead, but that leaves us with the usual access issues. We'll keep working on it.

—Slyzer

* * *

><p>Does anyone know what's going to happen with the Field of Lights now that Fantasy in the Sky is ending? Should we be concerned?<p>

—Glitterina

I don't foresee any problems. The new show should be able to sustain it just fine.

—Mme. LeVoile

* * *

><p>Adventurelanders, please keep an eye out for Sunmane. I haven't seen him all week and I think he might be turning Resident.<p>

—Lily O'Nile

* * *

><p>The Mist Train is only letting me off in Fantasyland-based Homelands lately. Is anyone else having this problem?<p>

—Great Shooting Star

* * *

><p>To all:<p>

There's a potluck going-away party for Ch'Zarr this Saturday. Please try to make it. We'll be holding it all day, so if you're on patrol that day, you can come before or after your shift. Don't worry about bringing Europan food; I'll handle that end of things. Earthling food will be fine.

—Dewdrop

* * *

><p>To all Tomorrowlanders:<p>

Progress City is back on track, literally. Big thanks to everyone who helped with the transition. Their economy has gotten a nice jump-start and flights to Space Station 77 should resume within the week. All the same, now might be a good time to pick up a personal shuttlecraft if you have the means. Just stay away from Crazy Larry's lot, like always.

—Andromedana

* * *

><p><em>AN: Anyone care to guess the time frame for this one? There are a few clues for those familiar with Disneyland history…and real history, for that matter._


	7. Child Retrieval

The word went around quickly as soon as it happened: _missing child_. Esperanza Arguella, four years old, wearing a light blue dress with ruffles, only understands Spanish. Every Spanish-speaking Cast Member in Fantasyland who could be spared went on the hunt for the girl, who had wandered away from her family as they debated which of the rides to go on next. But none of the costumed, nametagged park employees now combing the area stood a chance of finding the child.

She had accidentally crossed the Curtain. The invisible barrier between the worlds was still trembling slightly from the breach.

It happened on the order of once or twice a month, and so far all the incidents had involved quite young children, young enough to genuinely believe in the illusions that Disneyland presented, and for whom the very existence of the Curtain was therefore a mere formality. Most of them never even realized that they had gone anywhere by the time the Knight assigned to the case found them and brought them back.

Esperanza Arguella probably would. Almost certainly would. She would have to be blind not to. Logic dictated such.

Javier Vargas, Knight of the Magic Kingdom, was good at logic. Wizards generally were. Based upon where the Arguellas had been when they lost track of little Esperanza, he considered it most likely that she had stumbled through the Shallow Gateway in the Mad Hatter Shop. He could imagine the scenario: typical scorching August weather, heavily air-conditioned shop, and all those lovely hats visible from across the walkway…of _course_ the girl had wandered in. And the shop was so busy, no one would have taken notice of her, let alone realized that she had walked behind a display stand and then not reappeared on the other side…

He explained all this to his partner for the day, Diane Grosvenor, as the two of them hurried through the Fantasyland crowds, getting their Keys in hand as they approached the shop. Despite the seriousness of the mission, his voice held a tone of happy excitement. For both of them, it was the first assignment they would undertake without supervision from more experienced Knights. Nearly all new Knights got child-retrieval for that milestone. It was something of a practical tradition—ease rookies into things by giving them a nice simple task with an immediate reward and a low risk of encountering any strong Bogeys. The two of them had been anticipating their turn for weeks.

But in order to complete the mission, they would first have to cross the Curtain themselves, and that was going to be tricky on a day like this. The Shallow Gateways were all out in the open, public areas of the park, and said areas were jammed with guests. They knew there was a roundabout way of getting to the Top Layer by crossing directly to a Homeland and then backtracking, so to speak, but they hadn't learned it yet.

"Well…" Javier reasoned, "if that little girl could cross without anyone noticing, so can we."

"Maybe," said Diane, running a hand through her bushy hairdo like she always did when she was nervous. "We should go one at a time, though."

"Ladies first," Javier offered.

Diane didn't argue, even though she knew Javier was motivated less by chivalry than by his usual hesitation when it came time to do anything Knightly. It was as if he were afraid he was going to do it wrong or something. She put such discouraging thoughts out of her head as she slipped into the shop, readying her Key.

Things went more-or-less as planned. The guests were absorbed in their browsing, the Cast Members focused on their cash registers and name-stitching machines. Diane held her Key alongside her hip, making no movement to draw attention to it, and turned it in the air. She vanished with her next step.

She emerged in what was at first glance a perfect copy of the Mad Hatter shop, from the window displays to the fake second story made up to look like the White Rabbit's bedroom. (His real bedroom, of course, was in his real house, in Wonderland.) Only someone very familiar with the Disneyland shop would have been able to tell that this space was just a little bigger and a little brighter than its counterpart on the Near Side. More obvious were the differences in the merchandise—still hats of numerous types, but the cheap velour and polyester were exchanged for starched woolen felt and fine satin, and there wasn't a Disney logo in sight.

But Diane wasn't there to shop. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her power. It was easy enough to transform here, in Fantasyland: her home turf, as it were. There was a brief wash of scarlet light, the usual sense of disorientation, and then where the young woman had stood, there instead _hovered_ a tiny fairy, shedding glittering dust from her wings, clad in an eccentric combination of prickly leaves and purple petals, her hair stark white and standing out from her head like a pompom, even fluffier than its normal style. That she was called Thistledown never surprised anyone.

She emerged from the change to find that her partner had crossed in the meantime, and was in the middle of his own transformation, glowing magenta. His light soon subsided to reveal him as Balthasar the wizard, looking every inch the magical sage with his vermilion robes, conical hat, and crystal orb-tipped staff. (Well…maybe not _every_ inch. He didn't have a beard.)

"About time," Thistledown jingled, not unkindly. She swooped down close to the shop floor, illuminating it with her glow, and skimmed the tiles until she found what she was looking for. She beckoned Balthasar over.

It was a dusty scuff mark on the otherwise spotless floor, with the faintest impression of texture indicating the sole of a child's dress shoe. Had they said Esperanza was wearing Mary Janes? No, but they had said she was wearing a nice dress, and it wasn't unreasonable that she would have shoes to match. Thistledown drifted on and found a second such print a short way beyond the first, and a third. It looked like the little girl had headed right out the shop's other door.

"We'll never be able to follow the trail on concrete," Balthasar observed. "Let me try something." Crouching, he ran his fingertips over one of the footprints, taking up some of the dust, and rubbed it on the orb of his staff while chanting in a low voice. "_Itineralus, illumina, intuitis..._" It wasn't real Latin, but the important thing was that it _sounded_ powerful.

The orb glowed, brilliant gold touched with rose, and then, gradually, Esperanza Arguella's tracks began to shimmer faintly in response. The dust from the one had provided a mystical link to all of them. But the light started to fade almost right away.

"Yikes!" Thistledown chimed. "Can't you hold it?"

"I don't think so; I've never done that before!" said Balthasar.

"Well, no time to waste then." And Thistledown zipped outside, swift as a bird.

Balthasar sighed and followed at his own speed, stumbling slightly as the hem of his overlong robe got in the way. He had never gotten around to having it properly tailored. He lifted it with his free hand, like a girl in a ballgown (ugh), and jogged outside. The glowing footprints were almost gone, but Thistledown's constant drizzle of pixie dust had left a replacement trail, circling counterclockwise around the boundaries of the Mad Tea Party and then continuing on a beeline toward the Fantasyland courtyard.

He caught up with the fairy next to the King Arthur Carrousel. She was hovering, staring with a frown of concern at the ornate spinning structure.

"She didn't…did she?" Balthasar said.

"I'm not sure," Thistledown replied, the bells in her voice striking a sour note. "The last I saw of the footprints, they were headed this way."

Balthasar matched her frown. It was quite possible that Esperanza had tried to visit the Carrousel, actually. _Quite_ possible. With its rococo gold trim and rows of lights and prancing white horses, their tack in every color of the rainbow and studded with gems, it was virtually a magnet for children (and not a few adults). And here in the Top Layer, the mere act of stepping inside the safety fence would take a person, Key or no Key, directly to the Carrousel's attached Homeland.

Directly to Camelot. Where she would suddenly have a lot more space to get lost in and a _lot_ more potential danger to run into. Where she couldn't fail to notice the change between the carnivalesque theming of Fantasyland and the very real forest she had suddenly arrived in.

He met Thistledown's eyes. They were both thinking the same thing: _Is this normal?_ The indication they had gotten from the older Knights was that child-retrieval was the ultimate in simplicity. Had they been misled? A certain amount of hazing was par for the course, but they had been at this job for almost two months and had thought they were past all that.

Whatever the case, there was nothing to do but carry on. It was their mission and they were obligated to complete it. They moved around to the entrance of the Carrousel's queue area and went inside.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Just to clear up some potential confusion about the layout of Fantasyland, this takes place in 1974, when the Carrousel was much closer to the Castle and the Mad Tea Party was placed about where the Carrousel is now._


	8. Bogey Battle!

Thistledown and Balthasar arrived in a peaceful, sun-dappled forest glade. Near the center stood a ramshackle stone cottage with the thatch falling in and climbing vines slowly disintegrating the masonry. Once the residence of the great wizard and scholar Merlin, now it was but a landmark, helping Knights locate the Gateway in the otherwise pathless forest.

It also seemed to the two of them like a great place for a lost and thoroughly confused preschooler to hide, but that thought was cut short when Balthasar spied an unmistakable row of miniature shoeprints in the damp earth, leading off in a different direction, into the dark woods. They were so fresh that moisture was still oozing from the bruised moss.

"_¡Esperanza!_" he called. "_¿Esperanza, dónde estás? ¿Puedes oírme? ¿Esperanza?_"

"Good thinking," Thistledown tinkled. "I wish I spoke Spanish."

Several seconds passed and there was no reply, in Spanish or any other language, so they set out to follow the blatant trail. In other circumstances, it might have been a nice day to just go for a walk/flutter in the woods. It was much cooler under the shade of the medieval English forest than back on the open pavement of the park.

And then they rounded a massive half-decayed log…and there she was, crouching to poke at a clump of mushrooms growing just beside the toppled tree. To all appearances, the girl was completely unhurt…and unperturbed, for that matter. That was the nice thing about these child-retrieval missions—by the very nature of things, the kids most likely to slip across to Disneytopia were those least likely to question the occurrence or get upset at the "impossibility" of suddenly finding themselves in a wildly different place.

"_¿Esperanza?_" said Balthasar.

She jumped a little at the sound of her name and looked up, meeting the wizard's eyes. A look of vague suspicion crossed her features as she stood, wiping her grubby hands on her skirt.

"_Ven conmigo, Esperanza,_" he continued, reaching out a hand toward her_. _"_Tu mamá y papá está buscando para tu._"

Esperanza merely stared at him.

"Maybe you should try English," Thistledown suggested. She flew up in front of the child's face. "How about this, sweetheart? Can you understand me?" She had forgotten for the moment that her own words _didn't_ come out as English, and that Balthasar could only understand her because he was magical too.

The dark round eyes widened at the sight of the fairy, and Esperanza's mouth turned up in a delighted smile…that suddenly dropped off again as her gaze shifted _past_ Thistledown, to something lurking in the foliage behind the Knights.

Balthasar noticed the change in her expression and turned just in time to see the Bogey leaping at him. It was man-sized, or a little larger, and vaguely wolflike, and that was all he managed to take in. The Knight threw up his staff in self-defense, but the creature bowled him over. His head struck the rotten log and he sprawled on the ground, dazed, ears ringing and vision full of black spots. His staff bounced out of reach, leaving him scrabbling clumsily at leaf litter until he recovered enough of his senses to move.

Thistledown, for her part, reacted instantly to the Bogey's presence with a pixie's usual first move: head for the eyes and _blaze_. For an instant, she increased her natural light tenfold, and though the flare only lasted for a brief fraction of a second, at such close range it was enough to dazzle the beast for a full second or two. And _that_ was enough time for Esperanza to make one shriek and scramble away, and for Thistledown to skim the ground, calling to the seeds buried under the damp carpet of mulch. Tendrils of ivy burst forth, growing rapidly, twining around the Bogey's legs and fastening it in place. At least for the moment.

A moment could be plenty of time, with pixie dust.

"Come on, sweetheart, happy thoughts!" Thistledown chirped as she scattered the glittering substance over Esperanza, heedless of the child's inability to understand her. But it's difficult enough to get a frightened preschooler to cheer up when there is no barrier to communication, and Esperanza remained firmly groundbound. The Bogey strained and jerked against the vines, and they began to give way.

"Not good, not good, not good!" Thistledown said. "Happy thoughts, Esperanza, happy thoughts! Just think of _something_ nice and you'll be able to fly away from the scary monster! _Balthasar! Stop lying around and help us!_"

With a noise like a whip-crack, the ivy snapped. The Bogey charged for Esperanza over Thistledown's protests, but instead of attacking her with flashing fangs and razor claws, it seized her arm in one incongruously handlike paw and roared in her fear-twisted face.

Esperanza screamed.

Balthasar collected enough of himself to sit up, wincing at the pain in his head and the high-pitched buzzing in his ears. No, wait, it wasn't buzzing, it was screaming. Someone was screaming in a very high-pitched voice. _The little girl._ He looked around wildly, located his staff, and lunged for it. As he was getting to his feet and fighting off the residual dizziness, he was able to take in the scene.

The Bogey had hold of Esperanza, and was snarling at her in alternation with her screams, like a gruesome duet. She was struggling to escape, but it was far too strong. At the same time, whatever it intended with her, it was apparently restrained—barely—by the weeds that Thistledown was summoning from the ground. All her effort was devoted to maintaining them against the monster's strength.

"Let her go!" he shouted at the Bogey. It turned just long enough to make a threatening bark at him before returning its attention to the girl. Oddly, she stopped screaming for that moment, only to resume once it was facing her again. Something about the quality of her screams was strange too…

Then it hit him. She wasn't panicking. She was frightened out of her mind, and rightfully so, but rather than wailing in pure desperate misery like he would have expected of someone her age, she was _yelling_ at her attacker, in response to its roars. She had evidently decided, with a child's logic, that this was a shouting match, and was giving it her best.

Maybe it was even _working_. The Bogey hadn't done worse than grab her arm, after all.

In any case, now that Balthasar was back on his feet, the stalemate could end. Making the Bogey let go of Esperanza was a necessary first step; he hadn't figured out how to target his spells precisely enough to damage a Bogey that size without harming her. Of course, the great thing about a wizard's magical staff is that if for any reason magic is unfeasible, it's still a great big stick…

"I'm going to smack it, Thistledown!" he announced, unconcerned that the Bogey might be listening. Very few of them had the capacity for language. "Leave off the vines and be ready to pull the girl away."

"Right!" she replied, only too glad to stop pouring her energy into reinforcing the ivy bonds. She released the Bogey, flew laps around its head on her way to Esperanza, caught the back of the little girl's dress, and gave her a sharp pull just as Balthasar darted up and brought his staff down hard on its foreleg.

"_¡Corre, Esperanza! ¡Corre!_" he barked at the child. They would be able to find her again after they brought down the Bogey. Esperanza nodded and took to her heels, quickly disappearing into the brush.

The Bogey made a shrieking, almost metallic roar and rounded on Balthasar, leaping up to snap at his throat. He raised his staff defensively, holding it off, but it was stronger than he was, and with his hands occupied he had no way to keep his robe from tangling with his feet. This was about to turn into a losing proposition. "Thistledown! Dust me!"

The fairy flew in tight circles over the wizard's head, sprinkling him liberally with pixie dust. The prospect of finishing off the Bogey served him for a happy thought, and he lifted off the ground and out of its reach. It paced petulantly, staring up at him and Thistledown.

"Here's the plan," Thistledown jingled. "I'll keep it busy while you build up a big whammy of a spell, then get the ivy around it again so it can't dodge. If we can take it down with one shot, we should be able to find the girl before she runs into any _more_ trouble."

"Right," Balthasar agreed. Thistledown zipped down and began harrying the Bogey, flying in its face and then flitting away, calling up inconsequential weeds to tug at its paws and maybe trip it up a little. After taking a few seconds to come to grips with his performance anxiety, Balthasar began chanting. He had no idea whether this particular beast had any special defenses or weaknesses, but lightning was a pretty safe bet for any Bogey this _physical_. "_Fulmineus, fulminatus, fulminarius..._" He repeated the chant several times, building up the power in his staff. This was going to be a doozy of a thunderbolt.

"I'm going to trap it now! Hope you have enough juice!" Thistledown called out. She dove under the Bogey's belly, bringing forth the vines.

Balthasar aimed his staff at the creature and released the pent-up power. The lightning arced from the orb of the staff, crackling through the air on a beeline toward the Bogey, and…and Thistledown was still underneath it, looking for a gap in the ivy she had summoned.

Time slowed to a crawl as the horror set in. Once the lightning was sent there was no recalling it, no stopping it. And now the bolt was in the way and he couldn't see anything, he couldn't see whether Thistledown was getting out in time and—

The lightning struck, with a noise like a thousand logs popping in a fire and a bloom of light so intense that even with his eyes closed, a painful glare seared his retinas.

Balthasar gasped out a very un-Disneylike word and dropped the six or seven feet to the ground, all happy thoughts overwhelmed with the terror of what he might have done to Thistledown. The fall winded him and he was still partially blinded from the flash, and for the second time since arriving in Camelot, he had to catch his breath and wait for the black spots to fade before he could do anything useful.

For the second time, his ears were ringing from a sharp impact. For the second time, that sound resolved itself into another: a jingling sound, a bit off like an out-of-tune glockenspiel. There was a featherlight pressure on his chest. "Balthasar! Balthasar, are you okay? I'm okay, see? I made it!"

Balthasar squinted and refocused. Thistledown was standing—no, kneeling, leaning on her hands—right at the top of his ribcage. She looked like she'd been through the wringer—smudged with soot, bleary expression, one wing slightly crumpled. All things considered, she'd been very, very lucky.

"_Madre de Dios_," Balthasar muttered. "Let's not ever cut things that close again, okay?" He moved his hand so that she could climb onto it—she wouldn't be able to fly again until her wing recovered—and sat up.

The air was tinged with greasy smoke: flash-cooked Bogey, along with a whiff of singed decayed leaves. Balthasar gagged at the smell, but got to his feet and staggered over to the sad heap of monster flesh. He took out his Key, and with a flick of his wrist, banished the remains back to wherever it was the Bogeys came from.

"We didn't do too bad for our first mission," said Thistledown.

"We're not done yet," Balthasar pointed out. "We still have to get the little girl."

As it turned out, she was quite close by, having run only as far as a bush where she could hide and watch the outcome of the battle. "_Señorita_," Balthasar gently chided her, "_tu es demasiado valiente para tu propio bien. ¿Está listo para volver a tu familia ahora?_"

She giggled and nodded. "_Sí,_ _Señor._"

They reverted to their normal identities, to Javier and Diane, in the glade where Merlin's hut stood, and crossed the Curtain on their way out of Camelot, hoping to blend in with the crowd that usually clustered around the Carrousel. It wasn't long before Esperanza was reunited with her grateful family. The two Knights left the Arguellas with their daughter babbling semi-intelligibly about her adventure. Javier caught words like "_monstruo_" and "_Campanita_" and risked a look back to see what her parents' reaction would be. Typically, they were humoring her wild imagination.

"Is everything okay?" asked Diane, rubbing her shoulder.

"Yeah, looks like it," said Javier. "It's a good thing nobody takes little kids seriously, since you can't make them shut up."

"Too bad," Diane said pensively. "That little girl's parents _should_ take her seriously. She's special."

"All kids are special," said Javier. "That's what Grover says, anyway."

"Yeah…but _most_ kids wouldn't have faced down a Bogey as bravely as she did. I hope she remembers us…the way she's going, in fifteen or twenty years, she'll be where we are now."

_A/N: I hope I got the Spanish right. I used Google Translate to obtain the phrases, and then re-translated it back the other way to weed out any obvious absurdities. It's all pretty basic so it should be okay, but if you happen to know better, I'm happy to get the correction. (As for the rest of you…no, I'm not going to translate it for you. I kind of hate when writers do that. It feels like they're not giving their readers any credit for ingenuity.)_


	9. The Last Street Artist

It took a moment of fumbling before Slycat Sweeney was able to unlock his front door. It was a narrow door, recessed into the wall somewhat, and he wasn't altogether steady on his feet. Ebony Rose had to do her best to support him from behind while he worked his Key in the lock. But he finally managed it, and with as much grace as he was able, ushered her into his Cozy. Although it might be more accurate to say she ushered him, turning sideways in order to assist him through the doorway with his injured leg.

It was only a modest Cozy, about the size of a studio apartment. It was appointed much like a studio apartment also, albeit one occupied by someone who opted to save on rent in order to lavish money on furnishings. Ebony Rose helped Slycat over to his plush chaise lounge and pulled up the coffee table so that he could rest his foot on it.

"Would you mind, precious?" he asked in a distinct Southern drawl, holding out his hat, an emerald green fedora with a peacock feather cockade in the band, for her to take. She calmly accepted it and hung it on the hat stand in the corner. After a second's thought, she did the same with her own ten-gallon.

"Now let's have a look at that knee," she said. Slycat's trousers were ripped and sticky with blood from a bad abrasion, but that wasn't the worst of it—the same fall that had scraped his knee had also struck it hard, and it was swelling badly. Ebony Rose was no nurse, but she suspected he might have fractured his kneecap. She ripped his lower pant leg away and gently prodded the site of the injury, eliciting a little hiss of pain from the older man.

"Sorry 'bout that, Slycat," she said in her own Southwestern twang. "I'm goin' about this all wrong. Mind if I use your kitchen?"

"You go right ahead, Rosie my girl," he said, leaning his head back against the wall behind the chaise and closing his eyes. "I might just catch me a nap while you do."

"It'll have to be a quick one," she said, going into the little kitchenette and fumbling through cupboards. "I only need some water." She found a bowl and filled it from the tap, and then grabbed a dishcloth from its hook. For a jazz musician, Slycat kept his quarters surprisingly neat. Ebony Rose brought the water back, squeezed into the space between the chaise and the table, and began carefully washing the blood away from her patient's knee.

"My, but that does feel nice," Slycat muttered after an initial hiss of pain. "So what do you think? You gonna have to put me out of my misery, cowgirl?"

"I don't think it's broken, if that's what you're asking," said Ebony Rose with a wry smile. "Looks like it's just a sprain, maybe not even that. The blood made it look worse."

"Either way, that's my season ended, sure enough," said Slycat. "Hell, maybe it's a sign I need to get myself out o' this business."

"Oh, I don't think it's _that_ bad," Ebony Rose said, a flit of nervousness speeding up her words. "Give it a couple o' weeks, you'll be good as new."

Slycat laughed out loud. "Precious, I ain't _never_ gonna be good as new! I'm gettin' old. I've _gotten_ old." It was true: his close-cropped hair was liberally frosted with silver, and the laugh had turned his face into a mass of lines. But they were smoothing out now as he adopted a more sober expression. "Besides, it just ain't been the same since Mademoiselle got sent to the big bayou in the sky."

Ebony Rose paused in her ministrations. "Sly, that was almost two years ago. You're still hurtin' over it?"

"How could I not be? Maybe she was only a Resident and a simple gator at that, but she was my partner, was Mademoiselle. Not to mention a fine ace in the hole. Many's the time those pearly whites o' hers saved my hide. Pity I couldn't save hers, come the finish." He lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

"Oh, Slycat…if I'd known it was still affecting you like this…"

"Never you mind, Rosie; 'tain't no fault o' yours. But I really do think it might be time to hang up my Key."

"I hope you'll reconsider. We lost a pack o' people last month."

"Precious, you've already lost _me_ for the next couple o' weeks at least. You said so yourself. If y'all can do without me that long, y'all can just plain do without me. There comes a time in a man's life when he has to stop foolin' himself. Most folks my age are retired already."

"You're the last one, you know, Sly," said Ebony Rose softly, abandoning her cowpoke accent. "The last street artist."

"Yes, I know," said Slycat. "It's all pirates and ghosts, pirates and ghosts… 'specially ever since those two movies done come out. But you keep your chin up, cowgirl. There's bound to be more folks like me in due time. Maybe sooner than you think." He winked at her.

Ebony Rose suddenly found her spirits lifted immensely. If there was one thing Slycat Sweeney was better at than quite literally jazzing up the streets and back alleys of Old N'Awlins with his clarinet, it was _finding things out_. If he was hinting that he knew something, he probably did—even if, for whatever reason, he couldn't share the details.

"I'll miss seeing you around," she said. "Everyone will."

"Maybe I'll drop by the park now and again. For old time's sake." He leaned back against the wall again. "Precious, I hate to be a bother, but would you mind nippin' over to the Near Side and gettin' some ice for this ol' knee?"

"Sure thing," Ebony Rose replied. She reclaimed her hat and paused at the door. "Will you be able to get up and let me back in?"

"I think I can manage to limp a few feet," said Slycat. "Thanks, Rosie my girl, you're a real peach." He pulled the sections of his clarinet out from the satchel where he usually kept them, assembled the instrument, and began fingering the valves with an air of concentration. Ebony Rose took it as a request for privacy and slipped out of the Cozy.

No sooner had the door closed behind her than she heard the mellow tones of the clarinet emanate from inside. The tune they played was a cheery one—"Sweet Georgia Brown"—but there was an undercurrent of sadness. Slycat had never taken a real music lesson in his life; his musical skill was one of his Knightly powers. Once he gave up his Key, the talent would be lost to him.

Ebony Rose hurried toward the nearest Gateway, the music fading away behind her…

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry about the delay. I got sidetracked by a completely unrelated project that went "YOU! WRITE ME __**NOW**__! NO EXCUSES!" and prevented me from concentrating on "Knights." This piece has actually been complete for a while; I'm still working on the one I had intended to post next, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting any longer._

_Those of you paying close attention may have noticed an apparent discrepancy between this piece and "Internal Memo," namely that New Orleans Square didn't exist until five years _after_ the order to stop creating Cozies went out. It's not actually a discrepancy. There's a reason for it. But probably not the one you would assume._


	10. The Structure of Disneytopia

The Structure of Disneytopia

Study and Conjecture by Professor Xenon, August 19, 1960

In the five years since we Knights of the Magic Kingdom have been defending the world(s) of Disneytopia against the depredations of the Enemy, the "rules" (so to speak) by which said realm operates have been something of a mystery to us. There exists significant disagreement as to whether it is technically one world subdivided or many worlds clustered, and as to the nature of the Gateways we use to navigate it. But I believe that through my studies I have been able to make some sense of it.

First, some definitions of terms in order to avoid ambiguity. "Disneyland" refers only to the theme park as it exists in mundane reality. "Disneytopia" refers to the entirety of the alternate dimension attached to Disneyland. "Top Layer" refers to the parallel-Disneyland component of Disneytopia, which Walt first discovered while the park was under construction. "Homeland" refers to any of the territories which correspond to one of the park's attractions or major features and replicate its setting, and in which animated characters may be found residing. "Gateway" refers to any of the portals which we use to travel from our reality to Disneytopia and back, or between different parts of Disneytopia.

To illustrate the relationships between all these things, I shall use a metaphor. Disneyland can be likened to an area of land with a cavern system lying underneath it. There are numerous vertical bores (the Gateways) allowing access to the caverns, though under normal circumstances they are covered and undetectable. Moreover, these bores lead to different parts of the caverns. A good number of them lead to the uppermost chamber, which covers the same area as the portion of surface under examination and quite resembles it in some ways. It has little in the way of stalactites or other distinctive cave features, but objects such as tree roots, building foundations, etc. protrude through the ceiling of this cavern, and thus one could "map" the surface with a high degree of accuracy by exploring it. Obviously, said cavern corresponds to the Top Layer, which is why I have chosen to use that term rather than any of the others gaining cachet amongst the Knights.

Of course, the designation of a Top Layer means that there must be at least one lower layer. In the case of the cavern system, that layer is discontinuous. The stone beneath the large upper chamber is riddled with more chambers, and it is these that possess the fantastic limestone architecture, each with its own distinct "style." Each of these caverns is accessible via a long bore which leads straight from the surface, intersecting the upper cavern along the way. A few of them are also connected to each other via tunnels, but this is the exception rather than the rule. These deeper caverns represent the Homelands.

Using this model, it is easy to understand why, as many Knights report, it is possible to cross the Curtain anywhere within an attraction's footprint and arrive directly in the corresponding Homeland rather than in the Top Layer. It is the same reason that entering an attraction space from the Top Layer leads straight to the Homeland without the need to use a Knight's Key—both actions are akin to stepping into a cave shaft. The only possible destination is the shaft's bottom.

An interesting consequence of this is that the attraction spaces effectively _do not exist_ within the Top Layer, despite it being nearly identical to Disneyland in all other ways. They are visible from outside and look as one would expect them to, but their tangible existence in Disneytopia takes the form of the Homelands instead. It is primarily for this reason that I believe Disneytopia is all of a piece: one world with many facets, rather than many connected-but-discrete worlds. Or to put it another way, just as Disneytopia itself is a pocket dimension within our world, with Disneyland as the access point, so the Homelands are pocket dimensions within Disneytopia, with the attractions (in both versions of the park) as the access points. The concept of "layers" is a highly useful one in understanding the way it is all arranged, and the "deeper," one goes, the more fantastic the realm we are privy to becomes.

Though it is almost pure speculation at this point, the possibility has been raised that there may be parts of Disneytopia even "deeper" than the Homelands we Knights have so far explored—the next layer down, so to speak. If so, I confess to a failure of imagination in guessing how such territories might be accessed (i.e. where the "bores" would be located), or how we would distinguish them from Homelands if we found any. Only time will tell, of course.

Supplemental Material

The following reference gives the list of known Homelands and identifies the attraction(s) and/or feature(s) to which each one is attached, as well as the animated film whose characters can be found living there.

World Jungle—Jungle Cruise (_Saludos Amigos_)  
>Fort Town—Frontierland main thoroughfare (<em>The Three Caballeros<em>)  
>Big Water River—Rivers of America (<em>Bambi<em>)  
>Tiyatani—Indian Village<br>Rainbow County—Nature's Wonderland area (_Melody Time_)  
>Fairytale Kingdom—Sleeping Beauty Castle (<em>Cinderella,<em> _Sleeping Beauty_)  
>Black Forest—Snow White's Adventures (<em>Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs<em>)  
>Mouse Town—Mickey Mouse Club Theater (Mickey and Friends)<br>Neverland—Peter Pan Flight (_Peter Pan_)  
>Nowhere in Particular—Mr. Toad's Wild Ride (<em>The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad<em>)  
>Camelot—King Arthur Carrousel<br>Big Top Fairgrounds—Dumbo the Flying Elephant; Casey Junior Circus Train (_Dumbo_)  
>Lilliputian Land—Storybookland Canal Boats (<em>Cinderella<em>)  
>Wonderland—Mad Tea Party, Alice in Wonderland (<em>Alice<em>_ in Wonderland_)  
>Snow Mountain—Matterhorn Bobsleds<br>Science City—Tomorrowland corporate-sponsored attractions  
>Low Orbit—Space Station X-1*<br>Lunar Expressway—Rocket to the Moon  
>Magic Highways—Tomorrowland Autopia, Fantasyland Autopia, Disneyland-Alweg Monorail<br>Liquid Space—Submarine Voyage  
>Mist Train**—Santa Fe &amp; Disneyland Railroad<br>Field of Lights***—The sky/fireworks

* Although the attraction closed earlier this year, the Gateway within the building is still active.  
>** The Mist Train is not exactly a Homeland, but it is accessed similarly.<br>*** As yet there is no consensus as to what to call this Homeland. Alternate names include Dazzling Place, Celestia, and many others.

* * *

><p><em>AN: This chapter not only reveals an important aspect of the Disneytopia mythos, it provides a snapshot of Disneyland at an early point in its history, when almost none of the really big-name rides we all know and love had been built yet. As anyone who has read my earlier work "Crowns of the Kingdom" will know, I am utterly fascinated with the development of the park. So many attractions have come and gone, especially in Tomorrowland. Several of the Homelands listed are no longer present in contemporary Disneytopia, having evolved into something else or simply faded away after the attractions they were attached to closed. I'll post a more up-to-date list as part of a future chapter._


	11. Mist Train Experiments

Mist Train Experiments

Date:

October 12, 1969

Participants:  
>Captain Meteor<br>Sir Ruddigore  
>Miss Lucy<br>Stout Henry  
>Barnaby Bellows<br>Brigitte

Log:

7:22 p.m. – Crossed Curtain at Tomorrowland Station. Instantly transported to Mist Train platform.

7:26 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

7:27 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed on Little Big Island.

7:29 p.m. – Exited Little Big Island to Top Layer.

7:37 p.m. – Entered Frontierland Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

7:45 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

7:50 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed in Fairytale Kingdom.

7:57 p.m. – Exited Fairytale Kingdom to Top Layer.

8:13 p.m. – Entered Main Street Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

8:27 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

8:37 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed in Liquid Space. (Thank Heaven for waterproof watches!)

8:46 p.m. – Exited Liquid Space to Top Layer.

8:51 p.m. – Entered Progress City.

8:55 p.m. – Used Quik-Dry booth.

9:02 p.m. – Exited Progress City to Top Layer.

9:07 p.m. – Entered Tomorrowland Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

9:15 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

9:18 p.m. – Brigitte flew out train window. From POV of those on board, she instantly vanished into the mist.

9:20 p.m. – The rest of us exited Mist Train. Landed in Old N'Awlins.

9:24 p.m. – Attacked by Bogeys—Wunnos.

9:26 p.m. – Defeated Bogeys. Stout Henry injured slightly.

9:27 p.m. – Exited Old N'Awlins to Top Layer.

9:33 p.m. – Arrived at Plaza Hub. Brigitte waiting there. She had landed in Sevenseas.

9:36 p.m. – In light of Stout Henry's injury, decided to stop experiment for the evening.

Conclusions:

None can be drawn at this time due to low number of trials and insufficient separation of variables. Will re-schedule a continuation.


	12. More Mist Train Experiments

Mist Train Experiments (continued), February 7, 1970

Participants:

Captain Meteor  
>Sir Ruddigore<br>Miss Lucy  
>Barnaby Bellows<br>Brigitte  
>Princess Melusina<p>

Log:

7:13 p.m. – Crossed Curtain at Main Street Station. Instantly transported to Mist Train platform.

7:21 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

7:24 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed in Fort Town.

7:26 p.m. – Exited Fort Town to Top Layer.

7:32 p.m. – Entered Frontierland Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

7:40 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

7:45 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed in Seavenseas.

7:48 p.m. – Exited Seavenseas to Top Layer.

8:11 p.m. – Entered Tomorrowland Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

8:17 p.m. – Barnaby Bellows extended arms outside boundaries of Train car. No immediate effect.

8:19 p.m. – No effect by this point; Barnaby retracted arms.

8:25 p.m. – Miss Lucy and Sir Ruddigore exited Mist Train (rest of party stayed aboard). Landed in Wonderland.

8:47 p.m. –Exited Wonderland to Top Layer.

8:59 p.m. – Entered Main Street Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

9:14 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded. Rest of party was aboard; from their perspective, the Train never stopped. Interesting!

9:18 p.m. – Entire party exited Mist Train. Landed in Micro Zone.

9:26 p.m. – Exited Micro Zone to Top Layer.

9:34 p.m. – Entered Tomorrowland Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

9:57 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

10:01 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed in Micro Zone again.

10:07 p.m. – Exited Micro Zone to Top Layer.

10:19 p.m. – Entered Main Street Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

10:22 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

10:27 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed in Lilliputian Land.

10:29 p.m. – Exited Lilliputian Land to Top Layer.

10:33 p.m. – En route to Main Street, encountered Bogey—Wunno. Had advantage of numbers and power, defeated with no trouble.

10:39 p.m. – Entered Main Street Station; arrived at Mist Train platform.

10:45 p.m. – Mist Train arrived. Boarded.

11:02 p.m. – Exited Mist Train. Landed in Celestia.

11:07 p.m. – Sir Ruddigore accidentally set off chain reaction. No injuries, but a few close calls.

11:09 p.m. – Chain reaction died down. Decided to stop experiment for the evening.

Conclusions: No discernible pattern to landings in Homelands. No evidence of multiple Mist Trains, though more experimentation is needed to rule out possibility. Seems probable that contact with Train must be broken entirely in order to land in a Homeland.

Other possible variables: Maintain indirect contact with Train when jumping/flying out of car; i.e. a rope or chain. Have multiple groups wait at more than one station and note arrival times for comparison. Repeat all variables several times to see if "rules" are consistent.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry for another "technical" type chapter. I'll try to make the next one more storylike._

_Just for fun-and enlightenment-try comparing the Homelands mentioned in the two "Mist Train Experiments" chapters to the list presented in "The Structure of Disneytopia." Try to figure out which attractions the new ones go with!_


	13. The Call

In a simple mud-and-grass hut by the banks of the World Jungle's mighty river, a woman was writing. She made sure to use ruled notebook paper and a ball-point pen, and to write in English rather than in the pictograms she had learned from the jungle spirits. Using some of the trappings of the modern world kept her grounded.

_My fellow Knights call me Auntie Bones. I had another name once, but I no longer remember it. I lost it to the World Jungle. It is still calling to me, and I cannot help but wonder what else I will lose before I finally answer the call…or afterward. _

The three-ring binder she used as a writing surface already contained several sheets of paper filled with similar entries. Maintaining the journal of sorts had become a daily routine.

The woman who knew herself only as Auntie Bones was not old. Her hair had already gone as white as coconut milk, but only because she had been touched by the spirits; the lines of her face marked her as middle-aged. She had been a Knight of the Magic Kingdom since the beginning, not quite nine years ago. Yet in some ways, she behaved as though in semi-retirement. She rarely went out chasing adventure anymore.

Often enough, it came to her. She was becoming a legend in her own time.

The roar of a wild beast sounded in the distance. Auntie Bones frowned, setting down her pen. She knew that voice…

The bellow came again, much closer and accompanied by rustling sounds as something big galloped through the jungle foliage. Auntie Bones slipped her writing paper between the covers of the binder, took up her staff of office, and stepped out to meet the approaching creature.

A shaggy gorilla burst out of the trees just opposite the doorway, running three-legged because it was carrying something over one shoulder. It came to a stop in front of the hut and carefully lowered its burden to the ground: a young man dressed in the linen khakis of a 19th Century explorer, a pith helmet dangling awkward around his neck.

He was unconscious, pale and sweating. The gorilla met Auntie Bones's eyes with a pleading expression.

"Is this what I think it is, Kiwana?" asked the witch doctor.

The gorilla nodded.

"Well, bring him inside." She turned and walked back into the hut, sighing, "Oh, Bartholomew…poisoned again…" There was no doubting the Knight's courage or fighting prowess, but he did have a gift for getting bitten, stung, sprayed in the face with toxic mist, or just mistaking one mushroom for another. Even without her Disneytopia-granted powers, Auntie Bones would have been an expert at treating poisoning by now just due to the number of times he had required her ministrations.

She unrolled a woven grass mat on the floor and had Kiwana lay Bartholomew upon it, removing his helmet and setting it to one side. "Do you know what did this?" she asked. "You can transform in order to talk. I won't tell anyone."

The gorilla nodded again and stepped back. Green light flared, and when it faded, there was a young woman there, casually dressed in shorts and a summer blouse. "It wasn't a Bogey," she said. "It was a plant. Some kind of moving vine. It threw thorns at us, and one hit him in the neck. I tried to pull it out, but my gorilla hands aren't good at fine work."

Auntie Bones undid the top buttons of Bartholomew's stiff jacket so she could get underneath his collar easily. She found the thorn on the left side, just underneath his jaw. It was no bigger than a toenail clipping, but covered with little hooks that kept it embedded in his skin. She had Kiwana bring her a bowl and removed a slender, pointed carved-bone ornament from her multi-braided hair. This she used to pry out the thorn, dropping it into the bowl to examine later.

From there, it was all rote work, going to and fro within the hut, mixing dried herbs to make a poultice for the tiny wound, performing the Chant Against Poison, mixing more herbs to make a tea that Bartholomew could drink when he woke in order to hasten his recovery…

And all the while, she felt the jungle tugging at her…

By and by, Bartholomew came back to a rather woozy consciousness. "Hello…Auntie…" he mumbled in a slurred version of his crisp English accent. "Sorry about this…"

"By now, I've come to expect it from you," she said, not without affection. She slipped an arm under his shoulders to help him sit up. "Drink this."

He cringed, but he was used to the procedure by now, and drained the cup she offered without complaint. "Thank you."

"Thank Kiwana."

"Is she all right? Where is she?"

"She's fine. I sent her to replenish the herbs I used. You rest up. You'll be a few days getting your strength back."

"You'd think I'd have acquired an immunity by now," said Bartholomew, lying back down. "What a nuisance. I swear we were on the verge of finding that dreadful thing's lair."

"It will still be there for you to find when you're well," said Auntie Bones, gently placing a cold compress on the young man's forehead.

"A few days…what must you think of me? What sort of Knight spends almost as much time laid up as working?"

"I'm sure I don't know. We don't seem to have any of that sort. We do have a few of the sort who are prone to self-deprecating exaggeration, though." She suddenly looked toward the doorway. "Kiwana's back."

Bartholomew started to raise himself onto his elbows, only to have Auntie Bones hold him down firmly as the gorilla Knight shuffled in with the bundles of herbs she had collected. Upon seeing her partner awake, she hurried over and rested a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture of friendship.

"Well done, Kiwana," said Auntie Bones, gathering up the dropped bundles. "And now I'm afraid I have to turn you two out of here so I can get some work done."

"Ah, yes, the undignified part…" said Bartholomew, removing the compress from his head. Kiwana cracked her knuckles, finding some amusement in the situation, and then gently but swiftly swept him up and placed him on her back. He clung weakly to her shoulders, just like a baby ape who happened to be most of six feet tall.

"Cheerio then, Auntie," Bartholomew groaned. "I'll come for a real visit once I'm on my feet again, shall I?"

"I'd love that," said Auntie Bones.

The two younger Knights took their leave. As soon as she was certain they were out of earshot of the hut, the witch doctor hurriedly pulled the loose sheet of paper out of her binder and began to write again.

_Every time I use my gifts—the powers of my Knighthood—the call grows louder, and I can feel a little piece of my old self slip away into the jungle. I can hold out for a while, but not forever._

_My fellow Knights call me Auntie Bones. What will become of them when Auntie Bones must answer a different call?_

* * *

><p><em>AN: Auntie Bones was first mentioned in "Backstory"—she was the spiritualist whom Walt consulted when the pocket dimension first started to emerge, and who suspected the existence of the Bogeys. In a sense, she was the very first Knight. She was also the first to experience the fate that came to be known as "turning Resident"—she lost touch with her mundane life and effectively became a native of Disneytopia, stuck on the Far Side of the Curtain. Only a handful of Knights over the years have had this happen to them, and the one thing they had in common was that even before they became Knights, they weren't quite rooted in the mundane world._

_Although she is no longer a Knight, Auntie Bones is still out there in the World Jungle, plying her trade as a witch doctor. Feel free to use her-or any other Knight mentioned in these vignettes-as a character in your stories. Eventually, I hope to be able to release "character profiles" for all the Knights I have invented as part of my worldbuilding._


	14. One Died Once

February 17, 1980

Dear Diary,

The service for Lulu Mae was today. It was nice and simple; a few people spoke, and then the fairies and wizards got together and transmuted her Key into light and mist. It looked like pixie dust as it all floated away. I like to think that means her spirit is part of Disneytopia now. Maybe she'll watch over the rest of us, the way she put herself in harm's way to protect Eli and Katarina.

It's so weird to think we won't ever see her again. **XXXXX** I almost wrote "We all knew the risks when we took the job," but I don't think we really did. It's not like when Abuelita died. Everyone expects to lose their grandparents. This was the last thing we expected. Knights quit, and a few occasionally turn Resident, but I don't think we ever really believed we could get killed on the job. It was silly of us, because everyone gets hurt from time to time, and the pain is real, but we just weren't convinced. We were almost as bad as the guests when they think nothing bad can happen to them in Disneyland. Now we know. It's not a ride or a cartoon. It's real life, every bit as much as what happens on the Near Side. The Bogeys want to kill us, and they can.

Doc Mulligan thinks we might be disbanded after this, but I doubt it. If they didn't shut down the PeopleMover after that kid jumped out of the car and got run over, they won't shut down the Knights. Besides, what would they do about the Bogeys without us?

What makes me nervous is that the one that got Lulu Mae is still out there. I hope it's not one of the smart ones. I know what they say about predators that get a taste of human blood. I don't think it would make a difference that Lulu Mae technically wasn't human at the time. But it's not like I'm going to quit. I'll do this job until I just can't anymore.

Signed,

Little Shooting Star

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry about the delay, folks. There are two reasons for it: 1) I'm running low on material that I can put into this narrative format without feeling like I'm just infodumping, and 2) I've been working on a solution to 1)-a shiny new Knights of the Magic Kingdom **BLOG**! When it's ready, it's going to be your one-stop shop for all the worldbuilding I've been doing behind the scenes, as well as art, blurbs on the characters I've introduced, and even more stories! If it's not too much trouble, I may also launch a KotMK forum where "participants" in the 'verse can discuss their stories and characters. Eventually, I hope to consolidate it all into a bona fide website. (What I really hope, of course, is that it generates enough interest to be worth it.)_

_That being the case, I'm probably going to wind _this_ thing down pretty soon. So if you have any burning questions about Disneytopia or the Knights, ask them now! I'll try to work them into the prose before I post the epilogue and turn my readers loose on the world I've developed._


	15. Bulletin Board II

I had two more resignations today: Nenya and Prince Atticus. I think the rest of us can pick up their slack, but some outside help would be most appreciated

—Dewdrop

I think Young Tom Hawkeyes is about to jump ship as well. Not his fault; he has finals coming up.

—Stout Henry

We can't go on like this. Are we sure Management won't approve any new hiring?

—Slyzer

You're welcome to try, but with the economy the way it is, they're tightening belts across the board.

—Stout Henry

* * *

><p>I killed another Bogey today that had one of those purple-ultraviolet stones in its head. And yes, it was just as tough as all the others I've seen. I think this is becoming a real phenomenon and we should call a general meeting to talk about it.<p>

—Kieran o' the Green

* * *

><p>Hey, everyone, sorry about quitting like this, but I can't keep spending so much time away from my family. If things ever settle down, give me a ring and I'll come right back. This has been the best job I ever had, in fact it's the best thing I've ever done.<p>

Anyway, before I go, I was hoping to clear something up. I found this key in Pixie Hollow the other day. I was sure it must be a Knight's Key that someone had dropped, but Endalee and Magpie say it's not theirs and they've never seen it before.

—Jameela Chandrakala AKA Nenya

That looks like Glitterina's Key. She disappeared years ago, though, long before Pixie Hollow even existed. We all assumed she had turned Resident. I don't see how her Key could have wound up in Pixie Hollow unless someone found it somewhere else and moved it. I'll ask around in Mythic Gardens as soon as I can. If she's just been lost there this whole time, it would be great to get her back.

—Kieran o' the Green

* * *

><p>Some of the people who have quit over the past few months had Cozies. I'm thinking maybe we should try to access them and open them up to communal use. There's no sense in wasting the resources we have.<p>

—Geoffrey

I'll add it to the agenda for the next general meeting.

—Slyzer

* * *

><p>To everyone:<p>

There is a general meeting scheduled for this Thursday evening at 10:30 p.m. All Knights MUST attend. (We will monitor for Bogey attacks and adjourn if necessary.) Topics of discussion will include:

*The new breed of "Stonehead" Bogeys we've been encountering.  
>*What to do about the drop in our numbers—reworking patrol assignments, etc.<br>*Possible searches for some of the Knights who have disappeared in recent years and were presumed to have turned Resident.  
>*What (if anything) to do with the Cozies that belonged to some of the recent resignees.<p>

Even more so than at past meetings, all ideas will be welcomed. We're in a tight spot, but we can get out of it. We're all counting on each other.

—Slyzer

* * *

><p><em>AN: This brings us almost up to the present day. There will be an epilogue that sets the last pieces of the stage, but after that, all additional information on the Knights of the Magic Kingdom setting will be revealed at my new blog created for that purpose. You can visit it at kotmk dot blogspot dot com (replace each "dot" with a "." of course). In time, all the details concerning the Homelands, the Bogeys, the "canon" Knight characters, and everything else will be revealed, so that anyone who wants to can write stories about their own Knights without contradicting each other (or me)._


	16. Chapter 16

It was another clear and balmy evening. Two people, enjoying a rare moment of leisure, sat on a bench in Disneyland's Plaza Hub, soaking up the ambience while they waited. Quite a crowd was gathering in anticipation of the fireworks, and the noise level was such that they could speak freely without being overheard.

"It can start any minute, you know," said the woman, whose name—on _this_ side of the Curtain, at least—was Joanna Plummer-Mendoza. "Stout Henry and Willa finally got their markers in place today."

The man—Carlos Guzman—blew out a sigh. "Maybe we should stop sitting here and suit up," he said. "Could happen fast."

"I think we'll be all right," said Joanna. "We'll know right away if one of our markers is tripped. I'm not giving up my time off quite _that_ easily." She leaned back and gazed up at the pink and blue towers of Sleeping Beauty Castle, their colors rendered even brighter by the nighttime floodlights and matched perfectly by the twilit sky behind them. "You know, it's been _ages_ since the last time I was able to just sit and look…"

"Like that for me too," said Carlos. "For everyone. Too much to do, not enough Knights to do it."

"Well, that's finally about to change."

"Hope you're right."

"I know I am. They're out there, Carlos. Some of 'em might be here already. We could be sitting not ten feet away from them. They just need to find us."

Carlos grinned. "Dewdrop actually considered slipping a clue into the fireworks."

"What made her change her mind?"

"Didn't want to run the risk of someone winding up in the Field of Lights first thing."

"Yeah, she probably made the right decision then," said Joanna with a chuckle. Sobering, she added, "I hope we made the right decision with those Bogeys."

"Has to be some real danger," said Carlos, "or they won't be properly tested. Some might need a fight to bring out their powers. I did."

"I know. And it's not like it was when we signed up. Whoever we get, we'll have to put them to work right away. No time for fancy training."

"Just remember what you said when we started talking about this: Anyone who can make it with conditions the way they are, will be exactly the sort of hero we need."

On that note, the two of them fell silent. The sky behind the castle gradually faded to the deeper blue of early night.

The fireworks still lay in the future.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thus ends the initial phase of development for "Knights of the Magic Kingdom." Further developments may be followed at the aforementioned blog, kotmk dot blogspot dot com. (Link available on my profile page.) And I will also be happy to answer any of your questions directly._

_Come on, readers—help me make this something amazing!_


End file.
